Gospel Story Finder

I have learned, as I have mentioned in previous messages, never to postpone a prompting. On one occasion many years ago, I was swimming laps at the old Deseret Gym in Salt Lake City when I felt the inspiration to go to the University Hospital to visit a good friend of mine who had lost the use of his lower limbs because of a malignancy and the surgery which followed. I immediately left the pool, dressed, and was soon on my way to see this good man.
When I arrived at his room, I found that it was empty. Upon inquiry I learned I would probably find him in the swimming pool area of the hospital, an area which was used for physical therapy. Such turned out to be the case. He had guided himself there in his wheelchair and was the only occupant of the room. He was on the far side of the pool, near the deep end. I called to him, and he maneuvered his wheelchair over to greet me. We had an enjoyable visit, and I accompanied him back to his hospital room, where I gave him a blessing.
I learned later from my friend that he had been utterly despondent that day and had been contemplating taking his own life. He had prayed for relief but began to feel that his prayers had gone unanswered. He went to the pool with the thought that this would be a way to end his misery—by guiding his wheelchair into the deep end of the pool. I had arrived at a critical moment, in response to what I know was inspiration from on high.
My friend was able to live many more years—years filled with happiness and gratitude. How pleased I am to have been an instrument in the Lord’s hands on that critical day at the swimming pool.

Janet: While we dislike thinking of ourselves as stones, there are moments in our lives when we feel our hearts growing cold and hard. Usually this happens when we feel we have been unfairly treated or misunderstood. And it is at these times that we need to rely on the miracle of prayer to heal our broken hearts or our angry, ailing spirits. Let me illustrate with a personal example.

Several years ago, as a Young Women president, I took a group of girls to stake camp. On our first night there, without my knowledge, a few of my girls played a harmless prank on some campers from another ward. In the morning, when the girls confessed to the stake camp director—someone new in the stake whom I had never met—they were dealt a harsh punishment. One of the girls was taken out of our cabin for the entire week, and others were given additional cleanup duties.

But the director did not stop there. She then turned to me and suggested that if we could not comply with the rules we should be sent home. I had to swallow a great deal of pride, and I found myself biting my tongue at various times throughout that week, particularly since the camp seemed to be run far more like a military boot camp than a young women’s outing. But I tried to be positive for the sake of my girls. In fact, together we started looking for the good in that year’s camp, such as the fact that every activity was organized the best it had ever been.

On the last night of camp, we gathered in an amphitheater around a fire for a testimony meeting. True to the order of camp that year, we marched in single file, ward by ward. I was with our Laurel group, and we were one of the last to enter. When I finally sat down, there was only one small space left, and it was next to me. On this we piled our jackets. But, just as we were ready to begin, the camp director—or the “gestapo lady,” as the girls called her—walked in. I could feel my girls cringe as her eyes searched for a place to sit. Slowly I lifted our jackets and motioned to her, trying hard not to look at the disapproving faces of my girls.

I knew all too well that this testimony meeting was supposed to be the spiritual culmination of the entire week. The spirit at this meeting could change lives for the better and often did. And now I could feel my own resentment and that of my girls toward this woman crowding out the Spirit. How I needed my heart to be softened. And so I began to pray fervently for help in understanding her and to let me know of her goodness. I prayed off and on for thirty minutes or so. And then, as we were singing “I Am a Child of God,” a miracle happened. Suddenly I knew her spirit. I understood and knew of her love for her Father in Heaven and of his love for her.

That testimony meeting was one I will never forget, and when it was over I took a moment to tell the camp director all the good things I had experienced at camp that week. I was not, however, prepared for her reaction. There were tears in her eyes as she said, “Thank you so much. No one else has thanked me. I have been afraid that no one liked me because I have been so strict. But I am a convert and have never run a camp before. I have just tried to do my best.” And then she hugged me.

Had a miracle just occurred? I think so. My heart had been softened just as night turns to day.

The Lost Purse
When I was recently assigned to a conference in the Mission Viejo California Stake, I was touched by an account of their four-stake New Year’s Eve youth dance. Following the dance, a purse was found with no outside identification. I share with you part of what Sister Monica Sedgwick, the Young Women president in the Laguna Niguel stake, recorded: “We didn’t want to pry; this was someone’s personal stuff! So we gingerly opened it and grabbed the first thing that was on top—hopefully, it would identify her. It did, but in another way—it was a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet. Wow! This told us something about her. Then we reached in for the next item, a little notebook. Surely this would give us answers, but not the kind we were expecting. The first page was a list of favorite scriptures. There were five more pages of carefully written scriptures and personal notes.”
The sisters immediately wanted to meet this stalwart young woman. They returned to that purse to identify its owner. They pulled out some breath mints, soap, lotion, and a brush. I loved their comments: “Oh, good things come out of her mouth; she has clean and soft hands; and she takes care of herself.”
They eagerly awaited the next treasure. Out came a clever little homemade coin purse made from a cardboard juice carton, and there was some money in a zippered pocket. They exclaimed, “Ahh, she’s creative and prepared!” They felt like little children on Christmas morning. What they pulled out next surprised them even more: a recipe for Black Forest chocolate cake and a note to make the cake for a friend’s birthday. They almost screamed, “She’s a HOMEMAKER! Thoughtful and service minded.” Then, yes, finally some identification. The youth leaders said they felt greatly blessed “to observe the quiet example of a young lady living the gospel.”
Elder Quentin L. Cook of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

I grew up in the church but really just went through the motions. Attending three meetings on Sundays was a real challenge. Like most young men I loved sports. We attended Priesthood in the morning, Sunday school in the afternoons and Sacrament meetings in the evening. Between every meeting a group of young men would be playing at the ballpark. I was 15 or 16 when upon returning to sacrament meeting a young man in our ward talked about following counsel given to him to keep the Sabbath Day holy and making right choices.
He was an all-state swimmer and had chosen not to participate in a swimming meet the previous Sunday. He bore testimony of the joy he felt in obeying his parent’s counsel. Then he said something that changed my life forever. He said that he knew that Heavenly Father directed him to make the right choice and to be true to his beliefs. My heart was beating rapidly and I was moved by his words and the Spirit as I sat there. I searched this question deeply... do I really know that there is a God and that Jesus Christ is truly His Son. I prayed for an answer and eventually received a testimony of that truth.

Here is another example of the effect on the future of decisions made in the present. This example concerns the choice to make a present sacrifice to achieve an important future goal.
At a stake conference in Cali, Colombia, a sister told how she and her fiancé desired to be married in the temple, but at that time the closest temple was in faraway Peru. For a long time, they saved their money for the bus fares. Finally they boarded the bus to Bogotá, but when they arrived there, they learned that all seats on the bus to Lima, Peru, were taken. They could go home without being married or be married out of the temple. Fortunately, there was one other alternative. They could ride on the bus to Lima if they were willing to sit on the floor of the bus for the entire five-day and five-night ride. They chose to do this. She said it was difficult, even though some riders sometimes let them sit in their seats so they could stretch out on the floor.
What impressed me in her talk was this sister’s statement that she was grateful she and her husband had been able to go to the temple in this way, because it changed the way they felt about the gospel and the way they felt about marriage in the temple. The Lord had rewarded them with the growth that comes from sacrifice. She also observed that their five-day trip to the temple accomplished a great deal more in building their spirituality than many visits to the temple that were sacrifice-free.
In the years since I heard that testimony, I have wondered how different that young couple’s life would have been if they had made another choice—forgoing the sacrifice necessary to be married in the temple.

Daniel L. Carter
As a young boy in Idaho, Dan Carter often cried when he listened to the Tabernacle Choir at conference time because the music was so beautiful. He said, “I always yearned to be able to share my testimony and feelings of the gospel through music.”
When he was asked to write a song to help prepare boys to receive the priesthood, he worried about his ability to write one that boys would enjoy singing. “After several weeks of working and rewriting, an idea for the music came. … I felt … sure that this song [‘A Young Man Prepared’] could help boys.”

For you to feel that urgency, I first share the story of Noelle Pikus-Pace, one of those Latter-day Saint athletes. In Noelle’s event, the skeleton, athletes build momentum as they sprint and then plunge headfirst on a small sled. With their faces inches above the ground, they race down a winding, icy track at speeds that top 90 miles (145 km) an hour.
Remarkably, years of preparation would be considered either a success or a disappointment based on what happened in the space of four intense 60-second runs.
Noelle’s previous 2006 Olympic dreams were dashed when a terrible accident left her with a broken leg. In the 2010 Olympics her dreams fell short again when just over one-tenth of a second kept her from the medal stand.2
Can you imagine the anxiety she felt as she waited to begin her first run in the 2014 Olympics? Years of preparation would culminate in only a sliver of time. Four minutes total. She spent years preparing for those four minutes and would spend a lifetime afterward reflecting on them.
Noelle’s final runs were virtually flawless! We will never forget her leap into the stands to embrace her family after crossing the finish line, exclaiming, “We did it!” Years of preparation had paid off. We saw her Young Women medallion around her neck as the silver medal was placed there beside it.3
It may seem unfair that Noelle’s entire Olympic dreams hinged on what she did during just four brief minutes. But she knew it, and that is why she prepared so diligently. She sensed the magnitude, the urgency of her four minutes, and what they would mean for the rest of her life.

As members of the Church today, some of us may find it easy to take these glorious eternal truths for granted. They have become second nature to us. Sometimes it is helpful when we see them through the eyes of those who learn about them for the very first time. This became evident to me through a recent experience.
Last year, just prior to the rededication of the Tokyo Japan Temple, many guests not of our faith toured that temple. One such tour included a thoughtful leader from another religion. We taught our guest about Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness, Jesus Christ’s redeeming role in that plan, and the doctrine that families can be united eternally through the sealing ordinance.
At the conclusion of the tour, I invited our friend to share his feelings. In reference to the uniting of families—past, present, and future—this good man asked in all sincerity, “Do the members of your faith truly understand just how profound this doctrine is?” He added, “This may well be one of the only teachings that can unite this world that is so divided.”
What a powerful observation. This man was not moved simply by the exquisite craftsmanship of the temple but rather by the stunning and profound doctrine that families are united and sealed to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ forever.

Now, I’ll tell you a little experience. I had a debate with a minister in Amsterdam when I was on my first mission. One of the Saints invited me to come to her home. She wanted to invite her neighbor in and let me preach the gospel to her. When my companion and I went to that home, the neighbor was there, but she brought her minister with her. Well, we had a little difference of opinion on the discussion of the priesthood, and right there he challenged me for a debate in his church. I was young and had a lot of umph in me, and I accepted the challenge. We were not advised in those days not to debate.
When we arrived in his church on Saturday night according to our appointment, that church was full. All of his people were there, and all of our people were there. I didn’t know how our people found it out; I didn’t tell them. He stood up and said, “Now inasmuch as Mr. Richards is a guest in our church, we’ll accord him the privilege of opening the debate. We’ll each talk for twenty minutes and continue as long as it is mutually agreeable. Is that satisfactory to you, Mr. Richards?”
I said, “Very much so.” I didn’t tell him, but I would have given him the shirt off my back for the privilege of opening that debate, and he just handed it to me on a silver platter. I didn’t know whether the Lord had anything to do with that or not, but I always thought he did.
I stood up and said, “The last time I talked to my friend here, we had a difference of opinion on the principle of priesthood. I’ve come here tonight prepared to discuss that subject, but I don’t propose to start at that point. If you were going to build a house, you wouldn’t try to put the roof on it until you got the foundation in because if a foundation were faulty, it wouldn’t do you any good to put the roof on because the house would fall. I propose to open this debate by laying the foundation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and I choose for my text the sixth chapter of Hebrews where Paul said:
Leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection; not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith toward God, of the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of hands, and of resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment. [Hebrews 6:1–2]
I hurried over faith and repentance because I thought they believed them. I spiked down baptism by immersion for the remission of sins until everybody in the audience was giving me approval. Then I came to the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. They didn’t believe that. They thought the Holy Ghost came just like the breezes that blow over your head. You remember when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God through the preaching of Philip. They sent Peter and John to them, and when they came, they prayed for those men. They laid their lands upon them, and they received the Holy Ghost. And when Simon the sorcerer saw that the Holy Ghost was conveyed by the laying on of the apostle’s hands, he offered them money, saying:
Give me also this power, that on whomsoever I lay my hands, he may receive the Holy Ghost.
But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou has thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. [Acts 8:19–20]
Then I gave another reference or two about the laying on of hands out of the Bible and sat down. “My friend” stood up. He never mentioned a word I’d said. He started on the Mountain Meadows Massacre and the Golden Bible and the fact that Joseph Smith admitted that he’d made many mistakes, and then he turned to me and said, “Now if Mr. Richards will explain these matters, this audience will be most appreciative.”
I was on my feet just like that. (My companion said, “How did you think so fast?” and I said, “What have you been praying for all week?”) I stood on my feet and said, “In the days of the Savior, his enemies tried to trick him with cunningness and craftiness. I don’t suppose there is anybody here today that would like to see us resort to those old tactics. This friend of mine offered me the courtesy of opening this debate as a guest in his church, and now he wants to steal from me the very courtesy that he extended me, and I don’t propose to let him do it. So, my friend, you may have your twenty minutes over again.”
He couldn’t do it, and he knew he couldn’t. His wife stood up in the audience and said, “What Mr. Richards is asking is fair; you ought to answer him.” Even then he couldn’t do it.
I said to my companion, “Stand up and give me my coat and hat.” It was wintertime. I said, “I am willing to remain here till 10 o’clock tomorrow morning, when I have to be in my own church, provided this debate can go forward on the basis that you set up, but if not, I’m going to leave and ask my companion to leave and ask our Saints to leave, and we’ll leave it to you to settle with your people what’s happened here tonight.” He still couldn’t do it, so we all walked out on him. I met him on the street time and time again after that, and he always ducked his head so he wouldn’t have to speak to me.

In the Crandall family were three redheaded brothers. Matthew and Mark were ten-year-old twins; Luke was eight. The three boys shared everything, including a basement bedroom and the battered blue bicycle with the bright red seat. They often put their three red heads together to make the best and most spectacular plans.
One summer day when the boys had exhausted every idea for adventure, they sat dejectedly in the shade of a maple tree. “If only we each had our own bicycle,” Matthew sighed. “We could explore the whole town.”
“Yeah,” Mark and Luke moaned in unison.
Suddenly Matthew sat up straight. “Listen!” he exclaimed. “There’s our answer!”
Mark cocked an ear. “That’s just Mr. Brown starting his lawn mower.”
Matthew punched the air. “Exactly!”
Mark and Luke exchanged bewildered glances.
“Remember the Petersons’ rummage sale?” Matthew said. “No one bought those two used lawn mowers.”
Mark nodded. “Mr. Peterson said we could have them to make go-carts.”
Matthew continued breathlessly. “Go-carts can wait. We’re going to start our own lawn-mowing service! We’ll earn enough money for three brand-new bikes!”
“Yippee!” Mark yelled.
Luke’s eyes grew as round as baseballs. His very own bike? Just by mowing a few lawns? “When do we start?”
They agreed on a plan: Matthew and Mark would get Mr. Peterson’s mowers humming again. Luke would use Dad’s new mower. Searching through a thick department store catalog, they selected the bicycle of their dreams—the Deluxe Sun Racer for $129.95. Matthew brought out his calculator. With sales tax, each boy would need to mow thirty lawns at five dollars each.
“Thirty lawns? How are we going to find thirty lawns to mow?” Mark asked.
“Tomorrow we’ll go door-to-door,” Matthew explained. He looked at his younger brother, who was nervously biting his lower lip. “Don’t worry, Luke. We’ll all go together. Mom always says that three redheads are better than one!”
Mom was right. People found it hard to refuse the three redheaded brothers with shiny, scrubbed cheeks and sparkling green eyes. By the end of the day, they had appointments for twenty-six lawns. The next day added even more customers, and Matthew announced that the mowing would begin Saturday morning. “Mark, you’re scheduled for five lawns in Jimmy’s neighborhood. I’ll do five in the Petersons’, and, Luke, you’ll do five in our own.”
Luke gulped. Five lawns in one day? Was it possible? “Are you sure we can—?” he began.
“Of course!” Matthew said brightly. “It’ll be easy! Plan on half an hour for each lawn, and we’ll be home in time for lunch!”
Luke still felt doubtful, but when Matthew opened the catalog, now permanently creased at the Deluxe Sun Racer page, his excitement quickly returned.
Saturday morning arrived under a cloudless sky. The first three appointments were for nine o’clock sharp, and the three brothers parted at the corner. “You’ll do great, Luke!” Matthew called over his shoulder. “Just concentrate on that new Deluxe Sun Racer!”
Luke waved and tried to smile. He looked at the list Matthew had given him. “Johnson, Taylor, Parker, Martinez, Hall.” Five lawns. Luke studied Mr. Johnson’s yard. It was nice and square, with one tree in the front yard and one in the back. Easy as pie.
But it was ten fifteen when Luke, red-faced and sweating, finally moved on to the Taylors’.
Dad came by about ten thirty to bring him a snack. “Luke? I thought you’d be at the Parkers’ by now. Are you all right, son?”
Luke nodded and blinked back weary tears. He took a long drink of the ice water Mom had sent, and wiped his face on his sleeve. “Don’t tell Matthew, Dad. I’ll catch up. Look at the Halls’ yard. That one will be a cinch!”
Luke carefully turned the mower around a sprinkler head. Maybe Matthew hadn’t figured on the extra time required for things like sprinklers and flower beds and little toys scattered around that had to be picked up. At this rate, Luke might be finished by dinnertime—or bedtime.
About twelve-thirty, disaster struck. Luke was puffing along the side of the Martinezes’ little red-brick house when something clanged and snapped, and Dad’s mower came to a sickening, grinding halt. “Oh, no!” Luke groaned. It couldn’t be a sprinkler head, and it wasn’t a ball or toy. Making sure the engine was off, he tipped the mower onto its side.
It was horribly terrible. It was terribly horrible. It was worse than anything he could have imagined. There, with a clump of freshly-mown grass clinging to it, was the mower blade, bent and twisted, barely hanging by one crooked bolt to the motor.
The culprit was a gleaming piece of steel the size of a ruler that had lain buried in the blades of grass, waiting to attack Dad’s mower. Luke fell backward on the soft grass and put his arms over his face in horror.
“Luke? What’s wrong?”
It was Mr. Martinez. He looked pale and frightened. Luke stood up. “I’m OK, Mr. Martinez. It’s the mower. I’m afraid it’s wrecked. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to come back another time to finish your lawn.”
Mr. Martinez patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. You were almost finished. I can cut the rest myself.” He tucked a crisp five-dollar bill into Luke’s shirt pocket even though Luke protested. “You earned it, Luke. I’m proud of you.”
Luke shook his head and trudged home. There would never be a Deluxe Sun Racer with his name on it now.
Parking the broken mower behind the garage, he slipped down to his room and curled up on his bed. Why me? he thought.
He wasn’t in hiding very long. “What have you done, Luke?” Matthew yelled bursting into the room. “The best mower we have is now a pile of junk!”
Mark was right behind him. “You only finished four lawns! Now we’ll have to do your last one another day!”
“If there is another day!” Matthew raged. “Mr. Hall said he’d wasted a whole Saturday waiting for some pip-squeak to mow his lawn! You really blew it this time, Luke!”
Luke was sick. He had blown it. That night he had nightmares of metal monsters in a sea of grass. His brothers were flying over him on their slick new bikes as he pushed five, six, seven mowers until—crunch—they all turned into knots of tangled steel.
The next morning, his brothers were still angry. They ignored him as they dressed for church. They ignored him during breakfast. They ignored him when they walked to the meetinghouse.
In class, Luke sat with his eyes on the floor. Sister Harding asked him questions, but he only shrugged in reply. She was talking about Lehi’s travels through the wilderness. She paused a moment, searched Luke’s troubled face, then asked, “Luke, you have older brothers, don’t you?”
Luke’s eyes flashed. “Yes.”
Sister Harding leaned forward. “So did Nephi, Luke. What is it like to be a younger brother?”
Luke looked around at the other kids. “It isn’t always fun. They like to boss me around, and … they get mad if I ruin their plans.”
Sister Harding smiled softly. “You and Nephi are a lot alike, Luke. You see, there were many times when Laman and Lemuel ‘bossed’ Nephi around, especially when there was work to be done. Once, when the family was in the wilderness, it was Nephi’s job to help hunt for food. He had a very fine bow made of steel, but on one of his hunting trips, his bow broke. When his brothers found out, they were very angry at him. Their own bows had lost their spring, and without bows, they were afraid that they would starve. So they were mean to Nephi.”
Luke’s eyes grew wide as he listened to his teacher. Nephi and Laman and Lemuel sounded just like him and his brothers!
Sister Harding went on, “Nephi didn’t yell at his brothers. Instead, he built another bow out of wood and made an arrow out of a straight stick. He also made a slingshot and gathered stones for it.”
Luke listened quietly.
“Nephi asked Lehi where he should go to get food for their family,” Sister Harding continued. “Lehi prayed, and Heavenly Father showed Nephi the place to hunt. When he came back with plenty of meat for everyone, his brothers were sorry that they had been so mean. And Nephi forgave them.”
Luke thought about Nephi and the broken bow all day, especially when Matthew and Mark sneaked off after dinner to make new plans without him. Fine, Luke thought. I have plans of my own to make. And he didn’t forget to say a heartfelt prayer before he climbed into bed that night.
The next morning, he called Uncle Tim, who worked in a salvage yard. He often helped the boys find parts for their old blue bicycle. “Uncle Tim? I need a mower blade.”
Uncle Tim laughed. “One of those old mowers needs a new blade already, huh?”
“No, it’s for Dad’s mower. I sort of … broke it last Saturday.”
“Oh.” Uncle Tim was quiet. Luke could hear him turning the pages of the big notebook where many of the parts in the yard were listed. “It looks like I might be able to find one for you, Luke,” he finally answered. “Come by in about an hour.”
Luke gripped the telephone receiver. “Uncle Tim? How much will it cost? I only have two dollars and thirty cents.”
“Well, I’ll find the best one I can for that price.”
For the next hour, Luke worked on getting the twisted blade off Dad’s mower. It was hard to turn the wrench. The bolt was bent, and he had to pound on it. His arms began to ache, and he felt a blister bubbling on his palm. Still, he couldn’t quit until the blade was off. It finally fell with a clunk to the cement, and Luke sat back, trying to catch his breath.
On his way to the salvage yard, Luke saw his brothers playing kickball with Jimmy in a vacant lot. They didn’t pay any attention to him as he passed by.
Uncle Tim was waiting for him with a blade that looked perfect. “I’ll let you have it for … let’s see—one dollar ought to do it.” He wrapped the mower blade in an old newspaper.
Next, Luke took the twisted bolt to the hardware store. He compared the oily, bent bolt to each bin of shiny, silver ones until he found its exact match. Luke handed over his last dollar for the new bolt and pocketed the change triumphantly. He carried his two packages home like prizes.
All through dinner, Matthew and Mark sulked over their spaghetti while Luke looked impish. “Boys,” Dad announced, “I called the hardware store today. It will cost twenty dollars for the parts to fix the mower. I’ve added five of my co-worker’s names to your mowing list. With two working mowers, you should be able to earn the extra money in a day.”
Matthew and Mark moaned loudly. “It’s too hard! We might as well forget the whole idea!” Matthew said.
“No!” Luke cried. “Dad, I fixed your lawn mower today. Uncle Tim helped me find a good blade in the salvage yard.”
Dad stared at him. So did Matthew and Mark. Mom asked, “Does it work?”
Luke nodded and laughed. “I cut the grass out by the street. It works great!” He looked at his brothers. “I promise I’ll make up the lawn I missed Saturday. From now on, I’ll do my best to keep up with you guys.”
There was silence. Then Matthew looked at Mark and said, “Luke, I’m really sorry we got so mad at you. We know it wasn’t your fault. Mark and I have decided that we’ll only do a few lawns a day. So what if it takes longer to get our new bikes? We’ll still have them in a month or so.”
Mark was nodding. “I’m sorry, too, Luke.”
So, Luke thought as he watched his father check out his work after dinner, this is how Nephi felt when he came back with food.
The good feeling lingered even after the three redhaired Crandall boys had ridden their new bikes around town. When they came back, they perched in the tree in their front yard to make more of the best and most spectacular plans.

My aunt and uncle live on a tiny island in the Caribbean in a part of the world known as “Hurricane Alley.” In 2004 our family learned that Hurricane Ivan was heading straight for their home. My aunt had evacuated to Florida, but my uncle stayed to weather the storm in a bunker that he’d built in the middle of the island and that they always kept supplied with emergency essentials.
Hurricane Ivan slammed into the small island with the full force of a category-5 hurricane. The winds traveled at over 200 miles per hour (322 km/h). And during the worst of the storm, the entire island was completely covered with water—it even disappeared from satellite.
When the storm was over, my uncle emerged from the bunker and looked out to see complete and utter destruction. He slowly walked toward his home on the coast, and his heart sank as he looked at all of the houses that had been destroyed. He was dreading what he’d find when he arrived home.
As he came around the curve, he anxiously looked and saw, amid the devastation, his lone house completely intact and standing tall. The lights were on because his generator had survived too.
When we asked him how his house had survived when the others fell, he told us his strategy for success. When he’d built the house, he’d bored and anchored the foundation into the bedrock 20 feet down. Even a hurricane could not destroy the strong foundation my uncle had built.

After it snowed all day, my neighborhood was covered with over a foot of slushy snow. I wanted to be alone and have some time to think, so I decided to go out and shovel driveways. I knew of several elderly widows who could use the help.
I went out and walked from house to house, shoveling driveways. Suddenly, I felt the love of our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. It filled me with hope and the understanding that even though times were tough, everything would be OK. I have found that if we need help to overcome trials, one of the best ways is to help others. I also learned that if you are doing good things, you will be more receptive to the Spirit.
Jared L., Washington, USA

Make good friends. Cathy Geigle, 15, also of the Sugar Hill Stake, has moved a lot and has had to make new friends many times—member and nonmember alike. “It is always so much fun to go out with Mormons,” she says. But right now those occasions usually occur when there is a church activity, since there are not a lot of LDS students in her school. But that hasn’t kept Cathy from making good friends. “If you have a good, clean spirit and are living righteously, you will be attracted to other good spirits, even if they aren’t Mormon,” she says.
On Cathy’s first day of high school, she met Kelly. “We started talking, and I could just tell from the way she talked and acted we were a lot alike. Our spirits are alike. She’s been a good friend ever since.”

Eliza learned as a child to respect the Bible. She attended a Baptist Sunday School, where she often memorized chapters from the New Testament. She remembered, “My heart yearned for the gifts and manifestations of which those ancient Apostles testified.” She desired to “see, and listen to a true Prophet of God, through whom He communicated His will to the children of men.” But her teachers taught her that those days and blessings had passed.2

Oliver and Rosetta Snow, Eliza’s parents, taught their children to listen to people with different religious beliefs and choose for themselves. Eliza soon realized that with so many diverse religious practices, she searched for something firmly founded in Bible teachings. In the fall of 1830, when Eliza was 26, the Snows heard about Joseph Smith, “a Prophet to whom the Lord was speaking from the heavens”—the very model that she had been looking for since her childhood. As much as she wanted the news to be legitimate, she wrote, “I considered it a hoax—too good to be true.” Eliza continued to study the ancient prophets in order to learn their patterns.3

In the winter of 1831–32, Joseph Smith came to the Snow home. As he sat by the fire, Eliza “scrutinized his face as closely as I could without attracting his attention, and decided that his was an honest face.” Even so, her investigative nature led her to observe what happened over time. She attended a local meeting where Joseph and two Book of Mormon witnesses spoke, and she was deeply impressed. Her mother and sister, Rosetta and Leonora, believed and were baptized that spring.4 Still Eliza waited, studying the Book of Mormon, watching and listening.

In the spring of 1835, Rosetta and Leonora went to Kirtland, Ohio, where other Latter-day Saints lived. They returned with stories about the Church, the priesthood, and great spiritual manifestations. Five years had passed since the time Eliza first heard about Joseph Smith. The accounts of her mother and sister brought Eliza an undeniable witness of the truth. She had waited until she knew it was true. “My heart was now fixed,” she wrote. She decided to be baptized.5

Even then, baptism was a challenge for Eliza, a humble woman who followed social rules and propriety. She prayed for someone to come baptize her, but no one came. When she heard of a meeting of the Saints about two miles from home, she asked her father’s permission to go and be baptized—as an adult, she respected her father, and he readily consented. At the meeting, there was no discussion about baptism, but Eliza gained courage to stand up and request the privilege. Before she could arise, a dark fear came over her. She pushed through the fear and was baptized in a nearby stream on April 5, 1835. “From that day to this I have not doubted the truth of the work,” she wrote.

That night, Eliza reflected on her baptism: “I felt an indescribable, tangible sensation, … commencing at my head and enveloping my person and passing off at my feet, producing inexpressible happiness.” She saw in a vision a candle with a long, bright flame, and a voice told her, “The lamp of intelligence shall be lighted over your path.” She was satisfied.6

Eliza moved to Kirtland to join the Saints for a time and taught school. When she returned to her family’s home at the end of the term, her old friends and neighbors asked about the “strange people” with whom she associated. “I was exceedingly happy in testifying of what I had both seen and heard,” she later wrote. Eliza determined to change her life and live permanently with the Latter-day Saints. Her conversion deepened even further in 1837 when she lived with Joseph Smith and his family. Again, she observed. “I had ample opportunity of judging his daily walk and conversation,” she recalled. She saw much more than the miraculous events of the Kirtland Temple dedication—she saw the life and relationships of a prophet of God. “The more I made his acquaintance, the more cause I found to appreciate him in his divine calling.”7

Thirty-seven years after her baptism, with a heart firmly fixed through persecutions in Missouri and the eventual assassination of Joseph Smith, Eliza remained a committed Latter-day Saint. On June 22, 1872, she shared about her conversion with a group of women in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA: “When I heard it announced that the Lord had spoken from heaven and a record had been brought forth I was deeply interested. I prayed unto the Lord to let me know if the work were true, covenanting with him if he did so that I would ever praise his name.” After her baptism, she said, she attended Church meetings. “We were called upon to speak; I dared not refuse for I had promised God I would ever praise his name in the congregation of the Saints.”8 Her continual conversion required her continued witness.

Eliza bore her testimony over a thousand times as she traveled throughout Utah Territory to teach the Relief Society, young women, and Primary children about the Restoration. Her heart was fixed, and she invited others to experience their own conversions and become firm and steadfast.

First, how can we teach our families to sacrifice? My grandfather Isaac Jacob was a great example to me. Grandpa was a sheep rancher who sent four sons on missions. During the Depression, it became my mother’s opportunity to serve, and she received her call to Canada.

Grandpa’s situation became critical when he was called in by his bank and asked just what was the $50 a month going out for Mom’s mission. He had taken out a loan and was paying a high rate of 12 percent interest. The bankers were not satisfied and told him to bring Mom home from her mission.

The following day Grandpa gave his answer: “If that girl comes home, the sheep are yours—and I’ll bring them right up to your door.” This caught the bankers by surprise. They were already using Grandpa to care for other sheep outfits which they had acquired, and they would have no one else to take care of all those sheep. Mom completed her mission, and Grandpa’s example taught his family the importance of sacrifice.

Sacred experiences don’t always occur in the temple or at church. One night, I had a sacred moment in the dark, quiet living room of my college dorm.
I’d gotten home late. Everyone was either gone or asleep. I relaxed on the couch, enjoying the glow of the Christmas tree lights. In an electrifying instant, I realized that the house was all mine. In that moment, I wanted to dance.
It was an irrational desire; I was definitely not a dancer. However, this night I was alone and no one would see if I made a fool of myself.
I couldn’t sit still any longer. I had to dance. I ran up the stairs to grab a CD and flew back to the living room on tiptoe. I pressed play and listened as the first song began. Slow steps and careful twirls began my secret recital. Then I gave myself to the music and simply danced. Soon I was running, leaping, flying with my heart, and reaching for the sky.
The music soared, and so did I. If I was clumsy, I didn’t notice. I no longer cared. No one was there to judge me. I danced free in a place where the world could never judge me.
For a moment, I saw myself through God’s eyes, and it was glorious. I was completely myself. Not the self that others expected me to be. Not even the self that I was “supposed” to be. The self that God knew was in me—the truest part of my soul.
What freedom I felt then. I was of worth! I was worth something because I was myself. Me. God loved me, not my skills or my looks. I was beautiful and precious just because I was His daughter.
My dance changed. Instead of expressing the beauty of the music, I was literally dancing for the joy of the beauty of my soul. I spun in the rainbow glow of Christmas lights, knowing that God was watching over me and that He was smiling.
That night the dirty carpet of a college dorm became holy ground as I danced by the light of a Christmas tree and saw the eternal worth of my soul.

Before I left for that mission, President Anthon H. Lund, then a counselor in the First Presidency, talked to us missionaries and told us that people would love us. Then he added: “Now don’t get lifted up in the pride of your hearts and think that it is because you are better than other people. It will be because of what you bring to them.” When he made this statement, I could hardly understand what he meant, but before I left that mission, I understood.
As I visited the Saints in Amsterdam to bid them farewell, realizing that I might never see many of them again in this life, I shed a thousand more tears than I did when I left my loved ones to go to Holland. For instance, I called at the home of a family where my companion and I had been the first missionaries to visit their home, and the mother, a small woman, said with tears rolling down her cheeks, even down the front of her apron, “Brother Richards, it was hard to see my daughter leave for Zion a few months ago [in those days the Church encouraged the Saints to immigrate to America; now it does not], but it is much harder to see you go.” Then I felt that I could understand what President Lund meant when he said: “The people will love you because of what you bring to them.”
I called on a brother who stood erect in the uniform of his country and who was old enough to be my father. He got down on his knees, took my hand in his, and hugged it and kissed it and bathed it with his tears. I felt again that I could understand what President Lund meant when he said: “The people will love you because of what you bring to them.”

I spoke one day to a friend escaped from his native land. With the fall of his nation, he had been arrested and interned. His wife and children had been able to get away, but for three years and more he had been a prisoner without means of communication with those he loved. The food had been wretched, the living conditions oppressive, with no prospects for improvement.
“What sustained you through all those dark days?” I asked.
He responded: “My faith; my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I put my burdens on him, and then they seemed so much the lighter.”

Each year we have a family vacation at Bear Lake. It is an exciting week of getting acquainted with grandchildren. For the past few years I have listened to their opportunities and challenges. They have let me know of the increased pressures of being in the world but not of the world. Movies, television, Internet, designer clothes, extreme fashions, Sabbath-breaking activities, et cetera, escalate the magnitude of their temptations. Moreover, peer pressures force difficult decisions about whether to follow the crowd or stand up for the principles taught by converted and committed parents and the Church.
This year I decided to be a little more aggressive in counseling my grandchildren. I wanted to provide them with a framework to resist temptations and thrive in today’s complex world. Our vacation at the lake extends for four days, so I decided to purchase a loose-leaf binder for each of them and include a topic for discussion for each day. Each insert included some scripture references and quotes that were intended to start fruitful discussions between the generations.
On the first day there was not much interest in discussions, but the momentum seemed to increase each day. The experiment had enough success that I would like to play grandfather to each of you young people listening today to see if we can stimulate some thoughtful discussions in your homes with your parents.
Topic number 1: Appreciation for the land in which we live. During one of the early conferences of the Church, held on January 2 of 1831, the Lord, through revelation, gave the Prophet Joseph Smith a vision of how He valued the land that He had created for His children. In Doctrine and Covenants 38:17–28 we read:
“And I have made the earth rich, and behold it is my footstool, wherefore, again I will stand upon it.
“And I hold forth and deign to give unto you greater riches, even a land of promise, a land flowing with milk and honey, upon which there shall be no curse when the Lord cometh;
“And I will give it unto you for the land of your inheritance, if you seek it with all your hearts.
“And this shall be my covenant with you, ye shall have it for the land of your inheritance, and for the inheritance of your children forever, while the earth shall stand, and ye shall possess it again in eternity, no more to pass away.”
The Lord has blessed us with lands of promise to enjoy during our mortal probation. The nations of the earth, if they would continue to follow the ways of the Lord, could be a blessing to His children here. You special young sons and daughters, He expects you to be especially mindful of the bounteous blessings you have received from Him.
With these blessings, of course, come responsibilities. We are expected to be subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, and obey, honor, and sustain the law (see A of F 1:12). To obey, honor, and sustain, we must know the law and live it. We must be good citizens in our church, schools, and communities. We must also be prepared to make our contribution by giving service to others.
The best way I know of to make a contribution to the land we live in is to be prepared for the future. The Lord has promised us if we are prepared we should have no fear (see D&C 38:30). If we make an effort to obtain the best education available to us, we are in a better position to be self-sufficient and not to become a burden on the society in which we live.
I read in a newspaper a few weeks ago of the earning potential with increased levels of education. The difference between no high school degree and a high school graduate is an average income increase of 38 percent. From a high school diploma to some college, the increase is 20 percent, and from a high school diploma to a university degree, the increase is 56 percent. Yes, education does pay. It is never too early to determine the direction you want to prepare yourself for. Don’t wait until you register for college to decide what you want to study. It is such a waste of time and money to attempt to pursue an education without having a definite goal.
Topic number 2: Self-esteem. In the eighth Psalm of David, he gave us a vision of who we are and the eternal opportunities which are ours. He said:
“O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens. …
“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;
“What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
“For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.
“Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet: …
“O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!” (Ps. 8:1, 3–6, 9).
Have you ever thought of yourself as a junior angel crowned with glory and honor? Every one of our Father in Heaven’s children is great in His sight. If the Lord sees greatness in you, how then should you see yourself? We have all been blessed with many talents and abilities. Some have been blessed with the talent to sing, some to paint, some to speak, some to dance, some to create beautiful things with their hands, and others to render compassionate service. Some may possess many, others only a few. It matters not the size or the quantity but the effort we put forth to develop the talents and abilities we have received. You are not competing with anyone else. You are only competing with yourself to do the best with whatever you have received. Each talent that is developed will be greatly needed and will give you tremendous fulfillment and satisfaction during your life.
The almost universal gift everyone can develop is the creation of a pleasant disposition, an even temperament. It will open more doors for you and give you more opportunities than any other characteristics I can think of.
Also, remember the promise of the Lord about caring for our physical bodies. If we keep them clean, nourish them properly, and get adequate rest, we will “find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures.” We “shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint” (D&C 89:19–20).
Above all, we must live with hope. In the book of Ether in the Book of Mormon, Moroni reminds us: “And I also remember that thou hast said that thou hast prepared a house for man, yea, even among the mansions of thy Father, in which man might have a more excellent hope; wherefore man must hope, or he cannot receive an inheritance in the place which thou hast prepared” (Ether 12:32).
Live with hope that you can achieve and accomplish and develop the great gifts our Father in Heaven has given to you and one day “receive an inheritance” among the mansions of the Father.
Topic number 3: Love of family. The words that the Prophet Joseph Smith remembered from that tremendous visit of the angel Moroni to him on the night of September 21, 1823, included a special promise made to families:
“Behold, I will reveal unto you the Priesthood, by the hand of Elijah the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.
“And he shall plant in the hearts of the children the promises made to the fathers, and the hearts of the children shall turn to their fathers.
“If it were not so, the whole earth would be utterly wasted at his coming” (D&C 2:1–3).
This great vision to the Prophet Joseph Smith reestablished the doctrine of eternal family units. The eternal family is central to the gospel of our Savior. There would be no reason for Him to return to earth to rule and reign over His kingdom unless the eternal family unit had been established for our Father in Heaven’s children. When we understand the eternal role of the family, the nourishing and developing of strong family ties take on even greater significance.
I have watched with great interest the addition of a new granddaughter in our family. There was an immediate bonding with her brother and sister. Her siblings held her with such tender and loving care.
Learning to appreciate what it means to belong to an eternal family is of great importance to us. Remember, you are part of that eternal unit that requires your best effort. Be certain you bring warmth, kindness, understanding, consideration, and a strong love to your eternal family.
The final topic I included in the binder was under the heading of “Love of God.” From the revelations received by the Prophet Joseph Smith in 1831, we read, “Wherefore, I give unto them a commandment, saying thus: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy might, mind, and strength; and in the name of Jesus Christ thou shalt serve him” (D&C 59:5).
The Lord has used the heart as a way of describing the innermost nature of His children. The scriptures are filled with references to the heart, such as the pure in heart, an abundant heart, a cheerful heart, and so forth. In 1 Samuel we read, “For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7).
In our hearts do we feel a sense of gratitude and devotion to the Father? Are we of one heart with Him to whom we owe everything? The test of our devotion to the Lord seems to be the way we serve Him.
We have implanted in our souls a desire to be free. The Lord understood this when He granted us our mortal probation. With that freedom, however, comes accountability. We are instructed not to idle away our time nor bury our talents and not use them. We are expected to make our lives better through our own initiatives and efforts. We must find our own relationship with our Eternal Father. We must gain our own testimony. We must decide whether to conform our lives to the Lord’s standards. We must choose as Joshua did when he said:
“And if it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Josh. 24:15).
I read an article the other day which stated that if an employer did not hire young, bright 16-year-olds today, with their advanced understanding and feel for technology, the business would be out of date in the next decade. What a marvelous age you live in. With all of your increased opportunities, however, comes the challenge of staying close to the Lord and being obedient to His law. This is the way you remain strong and able to withstand the multitude of worldly pressures.
My final entry in the binder I presented to my grandchildren was my personal testimony as to the truthfulness of the gospel of our Lord and Savior. I leave my testimony with each of you great young people that I know that God lives and that He directs His work among His children here on earth. I know that He sent His Son to the world to be an atoning sacrifice for all mankind, and those who embrace His gospel and follow Him shall enjoy eternal life, the greatest gift God has given to His children. I know that He directed the restoration of the gospel again here upon the earth through the ministry of the Prophet Joseph Smith. I know that the only lasting joy and happiness you will ever find during your mortal experience will come by following the Savior, obeying His law, and keeping His commandments. This is my witness to you, you great young people, in the name of our Lord and Savior, even Jesus Christ, amen.

The Rockland California Stake youth choir gave two performances for their friends, families, and teachers. Jason sang in three special numbers and joined with the whole choir for the larger numbers. These performances, with 121 young people participating, were something that grew from simple beginnings.
It all started at a fireside in the Loomis Second Ward. “The fireside was at my house,” said Amanda Groth. “Everyone was taking a break. Sister Wentzel started playing the piano, and people started singing. Everyone just liked it.”
Danée Call was also at that fireside. “A couple of us girls had a song we were practicing for a sacrament meeting. A couple of the guys came over and tried to pick out their parts. Everybody just came around and was trying to sing. Sister Wentzel said, ‘I think we’ve got a youth choir on our hands.’ We said we would love to do it. Sister Wentzel talked to the bishop, and from then on it was choir practice every Sunday evening.”
The first practice was small. Eric Harms remembers, “It started with seven guys and three or four girls. We liked to sing, but none of us were that talented. We got some of the younger kids to come.”
Those younger kids are growing up and, in turn, are inviting the new Beehives and deacons to join. First the youth choir was just Loomis Second Ward. Then the Loomis First Ward joined to perform at youth conference. Then the choir expanded to take in all the wards of the stake for four months as they prepared to give a concert. Some were worried that the big choir wouldn’t be as good or as close. Anson Call tells about what it was like to take the choir from just their ward to include the stake. “It was like a family when it was our ward. I was afraid it wouldn’t be like that anymore. But it’s exactly the same. The same message and the same spirit, just with a lot more volume.”
At first the ward youth choir sang occasionally in sacrament meeting. Then they performed at missionary farewells and funerals. Expanded to the stake, they decided to give a concert, two performances, where they would invite everyone from their families to neighbors and teachers at school. With 121 singers who were pulling every note from their hearts, the choir was great. “It was so powerful,” said Heather Wentzel, “I almost started crying. I felt like the people in the audience were going to say, ‘Oh, this must be the right church,’ because they must be able to feel the Spirit.”
When the choir is together, singing a song that means something to them, the singers talk about the chills racing up and down their backbones. “Your hair feels like it’s standing up,” said Jadon Andersen. “You feel great.” And now they love that feeling and want more.